


I've Got a Secret and I Can't Explain

by alreadysomeone



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:21:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27151700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alreadysomeone/pseuds/alreadysomeone
Summary: Donna touches herself “down there” while thinking about Josh and her plan to deal with her feelings toward him, and it all seems to fit into an 80’s pop song!
Relationships: Josh Lyman/Donna Moss
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	I've Got a Secret and I Can't Explain

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written in July 2002 and posted as part of the July Challenge on the State of the Union list. The song “Secret” belongs to OMD.

~ I’ve got a secret and I can’t explain  
~ All the time, I’ve waited for this day

It’s 1:34am and I’m in bed thinking about Josh. Again.

It’s 1:34am and I’m in bed thinking about Josh and I am touching myself. Again.

It is 1:34am and I’m in bed thinking about Josh and I am touching myself, but this time I have a plan. Not a plan for that; I don’t need a plan for that. I can “take care of myself” thankyouverymuch.

Here’s my plan: On our last day in office, I’m going to tell Josh Lyman how I feel about him. This is how I’m choosing to deal with my feelings for him. I’m calling it J-Day.

Whatever my feelings are for him at the time; whatever they happen to be on that day, I will spill it all.

I’ll tell him that I never liked Mandy and how I hated knowing that they had been together; knowing that they’d touched and kissed and made love.

I’ll tell him how I sat up for three straight nights after he was shot because I was afraid something would happen to him if I fell asleep or left the hospital.

I’ll tell him that by pestering him to ask Joey Lucas out, I was trying to convince him, and myself, that I absolutely positively did not have feelings for him.

I’ll tell him that instead of seriously trying to meet someone here in DC, I date Local Gomers, knowing that they won’t be as amazing as he is, and that I’m really not looking for anyone, because there is no one I would rather be with.

It’s a sad, pathetic life I am leading. Touching myself, closing my eyes and pretending it’s Josh who is caressing the moist folds of my sex. Pretending it’s him desperately grasping my breasts in a heated rush to consume my body.

But the release that follows the fantasy is what keeps me sane. This is what keeps me from going to bed with the Local Gomers. This is my method of practicing safe sex.

~ All along I was never in doubt  
~ I always knew it would never get out

I knew I had a crush on him by the end of my first week with the Bartlet campaign. It was a genuine crush – the kind of crush you get on the Boys Counselor at summer camp, or your best friend’s older brother.

As I matured and grew more confident in myself and my role, what I felt for Josh took on a more mature feel as well. I started to dream not just romantic, silly things about him but heated and passionate things. Erotic, wet dreams. He started making me climax in my sleep.

~ There are things that I cannot tell  
~ And there are things that you know darn well

I still worry a bit when I go to work “the morning after.” I feel like there is a big sign across my glowing red pelvis saying “I had a sex dream about Joshua Lyman.”

In reality, I think that perceptive people probably know there’s something going on with me in relation to Josh. But I’m in denial. Not to myself about how I feel, but about who may or may not suspect that there’s anything to really know about

I prefer to believe that it’s my private little secret. Deny everything, that’s my motto.

~This is getting very hard for me  
~ I guess you’d better just wait and see  
~ This is all, this is all

When Josh looked at me that night and I could read all over his face how much he wanted to tell me he’s a much better man than Dr. Freeride and that I deserve better – that’s when I knew. And when I told him that yes, he is the better man, I knew that he knew, too.

Whatever it is that he knows and whatever it is that I know, we’re keeping to ourselves. This thing between us is not something we can work out, at least not now. This underlying “will they/won’t they” thing we seem to have going can just keep percolating until J-Day.

Talk about two emotionally blocked people. Blocked so bad, we ought to have laxatives with our coffee every morning. Wait, caffeinated coffee is a natural laxative – maybe I should dump out the decaf I’ve started putting in the coffee maker in the bullpen.

~ You heard a message and the message was clear  
~ All the time you wipe away that tear  
~ All I want is to hold your hand  
~ To see the sun and walk the sand

It gets harder and harder not to just say or do something. I let little bits and pieces out, saying silly things about not stopping for red lights. I’m not sorry I said it. The glimpse I got of his face when I said it was worth letting my guard down.

I pause in my analysis of the situation to remember that moment – squeezing past him in his office doorway. I imagine him grabbing my arm as I pass by.

In my mind, he gives me a look that’s heartbreakingly desperate, brimming with pent-up passion. And even though he’s the one who initiates the contact, I initiate the kiss.

Leaning in slowly, feeling the pull between us, I want to remember this forever. After the first kiss, there’ll be no going back.

I imagine finally kissing him, his lips on mine, a bit hesitant. Then we lean into each other feeling the full, satisfying press of our bodies.

If that had actually happened, I think all he’d have to do to get me to climax would be to say my name, since I’ve become so adept at filling in the rest of the steps myself. Have I mentioned how sad and pathetic my life is?

~ You make me sad and you make me glad  
~ And now you see, my secret is this love  
~ Is love, Is love  
~ My secret is this love

He knew when he sent me those flowers that he was picking a fight; he knew it would make me mad. At least I think he knew. Maybe he just wasn’t thinking, but was trying to be nice in his own clumsy way.

When I walked in and saw them that morning, I started to cry. They were another reminder of how much he’s come to mean to me. How badly I want to not be going home alone every night; how much I want to be going home with him.

Instead of crawling under my desk and sniffling, I got mad. And what do you know, getting mad cheered me right up.

I love fighting with Josh. I love proving to him that he’s not the only one who can dish it out. That he’s not the one with all the power in the relationship.

Oops, here I go again. Envisioning clearing off my desk, giant flower arrangement and all crashing dramatically to the floor with one sweep of my arm. I look at Josh, who’s staring at me with the most precious puzzled expression on his face. Oh, he has no idea what I’ve got in store for him.

I grab him by the tie, swivel him around to the desk, and shove him down hard. I pull the knot out of his tie, yank it from his collar, and kiss him so forcefully that his lip bleeds a bit.

I can feel his erection pushing against me and in no time, I’m straddling him on top of the desk and riding him like there’s no tomorrow.

And let me tell you, it’s a good thing there is no tomorrow in this fantasy, because if there were, we’d no doubt be fired and be the lead story in every newspaper and tabloid.

The truth is, I just want to be able to take his hand in mine and hold it silently, without the banter, without the emotional baggage, without the White House Press Corps. 

~ Everyday you’re always there  
~ You comfort me  
~ And make me feel it’s worth my while  
~ And then I look around and you’re not there  
~ And everyday you say you care and I’ll beware

I’m invigorated by him, energized by him; and I know I do the same for him. It breaks my heart a bit that we can’t break down the walls enough to say or do anything. But on that day, J-Day, I will tell him that I love him.

Knowing that I have a plan for telling him how I feel is empowering, it sustains me. Coming to work and knowing that he may make a crack about my love life or my handwriting; or that he may flash that dimpled grin as we walk and talk, makes me think that however this turns out, it’s worth the wait to find out.

With that thought, I concentrate on my hand and fingers slowly moving between my legs, steadily picking up the pace. I get wetter and my breathing gets faster as I think about telling Josh how I feel.

I will start to tell him, but before I can finish, he’ll press a finger to my lips and whisper, “I know.” And we will make love, silently, right there in his office.

Just before I push myself over the edge and feel the waves of my orgasm take over my body, I think, “Note to self: Get a couch for Josh’s office.”

END


End file.
